


Right Royal Prick

by Diaryofanarcissisticgayman



Series: Drabble collection [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Baker! Harry, M/M, Parkour! Au, Royalty! Niall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 04:41:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2374943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaryofanarcissisticgayman/pseuds/Diaryofanarcissisticgayman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here's another drabble. Well it was supposed to be a drabble. I fell in love with the story though so I had a lot of trouble ending it. It's not that satisfying, but I may write a second part once I finish my main story to tie it up. Enjoy and send me prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Royal Prick

Harry’s day can’t get much worse really. He was fired from his job at the bakery for showing up late again. His best friend moved this morning, which is why he was late in the first place, and he told Gloria this was going to happen, but she fired him anyway. Also his fridge was apparently left ajar in the rush to get to work, and now all his food is spoiled.

London has not been good to him. He only moved in a month ago and it’s pretty much been hell. There are a bunch of lads that run around and jump from the roofs, because apparently self preservation was not bred out of this generation. A homeless man pees on his car literally every morning. And most of all it’s expensive, really insanely expensive. He’s barely been able to buy groceries with what he makes, sorry made at the bakery. The bakery he was brought in from Holmes chapel to help run.

Harry cleans when he’s stressed. It’s probably what saves his life, because if he’d been on the sofa bingeing on Netflix like Liam told him to he wouldn’t have seen a pair of legs diving right at him through the window he’s cleaning for the third time. He trips backwards and slams his head into the floor, a painful stroke of luck. Glass flies through the air like crystalline raindrops, showering his floor. A streak of red and yellow flies like a comet into his couch.

It takes Harry several seconds to process the situation. He’s on the floor and he’s covered in the shards of his own window, which smell deeply of vinegar and lemon soap. It’s a recipe he found on a blog somewhere. The shards on his chest are casting a pretty light all over his ceiling and maybe he can find a lamp that has a similar effect. That’d be a good purchase with the last of his savings account. On second thought maybe he should buy a new window.

The boy on his couch is moaning and it brings him back to reality. He’s pretty, he’s bleeding profusely on Harry’s suede couch and it’s going to take pints of hydrogen peroxide to get that out, but his first thought is how pretty the bloody boy on his couch is. He doesn’t yell, instead he runs to his kitchen and grabs his extensive first aid kit. It weighs as much as a toddler, but it has absolutely everything he could ever need. Harry may have watched too many zombie shows and started doomsday prepping when he was in his teens.

“Cunts in Hell!” The pale boy shouts, and oh, he’s Irish. He’s also apparently foul mouthed. “You alright mate? I didn’t get you did I? Fucking ledge has on it or somethin.”

“Ledge?” Harry questions. He snaps open the lid to his box and rummages for the supplies he needs. When he finds his forceps, rubbing alcohol, and plasters he looks back at the boy.

“That ledge up there.” The bloody stranger points out Harry’s window to the roof across from his flat. “I tried to do a diving roll, but I slipped on the ledge and couldn’t tuck right. I panicked.”

“Oh you’re one of those idiots that runs around like you’re invincible.” Harry sighs. He had already guessed that, but the boy in front of him lacks much muscle and his clothes are more professional than athletic.

“Awfully judgmental for a guy your age that lives in a flat that looks like it belongs to my grandmother.” The blonde says. “I don’t think I’m invincible, that’s why I do parkour.”

“My flat is sensible. And that makes absolutely no sense. People who have a grasp on their own mortality and half a brain don’t jump off buildings. And judging by your silk shirt, you either have more than half a brain or a very rich family.” Harry pushes him down, careful to avoid placing his hand over any broken glass. “Sit still.”

“Now wait a second-” The man starts to resist.

“You look like Kristallnacht. Before I put you in my car and take you to the hospital I’m going to clean you up a bit and remove and glass that’s caused superficial wounds.” Harry says bluntly. He grabs the forceps and pulls a shard out of the hand the stranger has on his chest.

“Sweet Jesus!” The boy yells.

“Relax. This’ll go faster if you don’t struggle so much.” Harry tells him gently. “Look the upholstery in my car is new and I don’t want it to look like my couch.”

The Irishman takes in the stains he’s left all over Harry’s new white couch and sighs. “Sorry mate. I can pay to have those removed, or just a new couch if you want something actually meant for a twenty something guy instead.”

“What I want is for you to sit still and let me pull out this glass, because I can guarantee whatever first week intern they stick you with in the emergency room won’t be as gentle as me.” Harry removes another shard, this time from the boy’s knee. He takes back the boys hand and dabs it with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol.

“Shite! Fine. You a nurse or somethin?” He asks.

“Baker. I just have a lot of experience at this because my best friend is a traceur like you. He actually has the muscle mass to do a diving roll though, unlike you. His name is Liam Payne.” Harry places a small band-aid, Hello Kitty, over the wound he cleaned. He repeats the process on the scratch on the knee.

“Liam Payne? You’re best friends with a parkour legend like Payno the Giant and you’re getting on my case about doing the same thing?” the lad asks.

“I get on him every time. Every. Time. You’re all a bunch of lunatics. But he knows better than you do. He wears proper running clothes and doesn’t jump off roofs with water leakage problems like that building has had for years. Now sit still and stop asking questions.” Harry pushes the boy back on the couch and sighs. This is going to take hours to do properly.

The blond sits back and asks “If I promise to behave like the proper gent you apparently expect of the guy that just blew in yer window, can I still talk? This is weirdly uncomfortable and I think talking could-” 

“Yes you may talk. Just don’t move around.” Harry interrupts him. “What’s your name? Stranger bleeding on my sofa is a mouthful.”

“Niall Horan.” he says simply.

“Not the Niall Horan that made London’s Top Twenty most eligible bachelors? The millionaire surprise heir to the Earl of Ranfurly?” Harry gasps. Royalty is sitting on his couch, and he called him an idiot and made a joke about World War II. He’s going to jail.

“Now how is it I managed to keep that secret from the blokes I parkour with every day, and you realized that in two seconds?” Niall asks laughing. “And why were you reading that article anyway? The Guardian is mostly online and I’m betting you mostly read the print papers.”

“Actually Liam showed me. He pointed you out for me because you’re the only one who is-” Harry hesitates.

“Gay? You can say it you know. My own sexuality isn’t news to me.” Niall smiles cockily and Harry realizes he’s basically outed himself to a member, albeit a pretty removed member, of the royal family.

“Yes gay. But I do have internet you know. I am still from Gen Y, even if I decorate like an old woman.” Harry tries to divert the conversation from it’s inevitable path.

“Surprising.” Niall laughs.

“I should just take you to the hospital. You’ll probably get the head of plastic surgery to do this for you.” Harry says. He starts to put away the supplies but Niall grabs his wrist.

“No. Please, I’d rather have the fit lad with the pretty green eyes do it. Doctors are so boring. And they always want public recognition just for doing their jobs.” Niall lets go of Harry’s wrist and sits back.

Harry blushes like his skin is on fire. “Fine. It’s not like this day can get much worse. Permanently scarring a future Earl can just be the icing on the cake.” Harry mutters. He picks up the forceps and starts to work on another piece on Niall’s hand. He may or may not be staring at the surprisingly long fingers just a bit too much. 

They sit in awkward silence for a bit. Niall examines Harry’s flat, his smile showing he’s obviously stifling a laugh. Harry goes through an entire box of plasters on Niall’s hands and wrists alone. Finally he can’t avoid asking the awkward question anymore. “I um- I need you to- Would you mind taking off your shirt?”

Niall wiggles his eyebrows, but otherwise says nothing. He unbuttons his shirt slowly, the red silk hanging loosely from his chest. He untucks the shirt and pulls it off carefully. Glass tinkles as it falls on the floor, pulled loose by the shirt. His chest starts bleeding from multiple wounds at once. Harry grabs a cloth out of instinct and begins to dab. He blushes when he realizes what he’s doing and pulls his hand away.

“I um- I’m going to grab another cloth and get it damp. Can you soak up as much blood as you can with that one?” Harry asks, rushing into the kitchen. He opens the new package of dishtowels he bought and dampens one. Really he’d prefer to have it cleaned first, but it’s the best he can do under present circumstances.

He turns around and Niall is standing in his kitchen. He’s holding the medical kit in one hand and a bloody cloth in the other. He sets it on the table and sits down in one of Harry’s mismatching chairs. “I think I cleaned it pretty well. Now it’s your turn.”

Harry steps forward and dabs at the marks that are still bleeding. He pushes gently but Niall still gasps. “Aren’t you supposed to use warm water when you do that?” Niall asks through clenched teeth.

“Cold water causes the skin to contract and stems the blood flow. I disinfect with the rubbing alcohol so it’s easier this way.” Harry struggles to say anything right now. A devastatingly cute member of the royal family is getting his chest dabbed and Harry hasn’t thrown out last night’s take away.

“That actually makes sense.” Niall says. “You almost done with that? I don’t mind the touching so much, but I hate the cold.”

“I can warm it up if you want. It’ll take longer though. I’ll have to focus on each individual wound that way. This way I just dab until the blood stops and then I do it again with rubbing alcohol. Afterwards I’ll put plasters on each one and that’ll be it for your torso.” Harry tries to explain his process, to take his mind off the situation and Niall’s maybe flirting.

“I’m torn between telling you to hurry because it stings or asking you to do that instead because you’d rub my chest for longer.” Niall is most definitely flirting.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to call you an ambulance.” Harry says with a straight face.

“What? Why?” Niall asks.

“Because you’re going to give me a heart attack.” Harry says with a smile. “Seriously though, stop flirting. You still have glass in your chest and arms and arousal causes your heart to pump blood faster making you bleed more. If I don’t hurry up you’re going to get dizzy soon.”

“I’ve been dizzy since I saw you. Those curls are spectacular.” Niall says, grinning smugly.

“That’s it. I’m calling emergency services now. Do you have a hospital you prefer or can they decide?” Harry asks. He fishes his mobile out of his pocket and starts to dial.

Niall grabs his phone, shuts off the screen, and tucks it into his own pocket. “I’m sorry alright? I’ll stop flirting now. But I’m going to call you Curls until you tell me your name.” Niall says.

“My name is Harry. Harry Styles and I want my phone back.” Harry holds out his hand expectantly.

“I prefer Curls, but I can work with Harry. You can have your phone back when you’re done with me. Can’t have you getting distracted, now can I?” Niall says. He leans back and drags Harry’s hand to his chest.

Harry pubs some more, avoiding the larger shards of glass that are still in Niall’s chest. None of them are particularly large and Harry takes it as a small blessing. He puts down the cloth when Niall’s chest stops seeping out blood. He picks up the forceps and begins to extract the shards quickly. Once all of them are removed he wets another cloth. He rubs Niall’s chest, repeating the process until once again his skin is clean. He grabs the last towel and pours rubbing alcohol on it.

“Twat fucker!” Niall yells when Harry begins dabbing the alcohol soaked cloth on his chest.

“Please tell me when you see the Queen you control that.” Harry sighs.

“Of course I do. The Queen doesn’t torture me though, so it’s easier to not yell profanities.” Niall tells him simply.

“Alright, I’ll need your help with the plasters. It’ll take forever otherwise.” Harry hands off a box of plasters and then starts unpeeling one.

“Why exactly do you have so many kiddie plasters?” Niall asks, holding up a box of Batman themed ones.

“Liam bought the Batman ones. He came to me so often he’d just bring me boxed of them. He loves Batman. I buy the Hello Kitty ones to piss him off. He gets real grumpy when he’s covered in them.” Harry laughs. He remembers the last time he did that. Liam pouted on the couch until Zayn showed up and laughed at him too. Then Zayn kissed each one and Liam accepted the little white cats decorating his body.

“Well I think they’re cute.” Niall laughs. Harry tapes one down over one of his wounds and smiles.

“Good. So do I.” Harry says, taking another plaster out of the package. “Now start putting those on. I need to do your arms. Wait never mind. Too much movement, could cause more damage. I’ll do them.” Harry snatches the box out of Niall’s hand before he can do anything. He spends the next twenty minutes placing plasters all over Niall’s chest until it’s a collage of pale skin, kitties, and the Dark Knight.

“Now hold your arms out like this.” Harry instructs, holding his arms like he’s doing forward arm curls. Niall mimics him and Harry examines. None of the shards look deep, but one of them has a large bump under it and Harry knows what that means. He grabs the forceps and pulls it out slowly. It’s at least as long as his pinky finger and Niall stifles a scream.

“Bloody fucking hell that was in my body? Why didn’t I feel it?” Niall asks.

“It was mostly in your elbow and the nerves there aren’t as sensitive.” Harry tells him. He pulls a swab out of his bag and dips it in the alcohol. “Now you’re going to want to brace yourself because that was the easy part. This is going to hurt a lot worse.”

Niall squeezes his eyes shut and nods. Harry sticks the cotton swab inside the wound and moves it around slowly. He finds what he’s looking for and traps it under the swab. He slowly pulls it out and Niall screams. He finally pops it out and the bloody fragment of glass falls into his hand. “I’m sorry about that. Honestly though, I think it probably wouldn’t have broken if you hadn’t followed me in here. You shouldn’t have carried something with all this in your arms.”

“Victim blaming Harry? That’s beneath you.” Niall laughs. It’s pained but Harry can tell it’s genuine.

“You’re your own victim. You jumped through my window. Nobody made you. You’ll only be a victim once I tell the papers about this.” Harry says. He brushes his hands lightly down Niall’s arms and the rest of the glass falls out. None of the marks are too deep and he applies more rubbing alcohol.

Niall hisses and asks “You’re going to sell this story to the papers? Et tu Curls?”

“I need to pay my rent, and since I lost my job this morning and I’m now missing a window in July so my air conditioning won’t work, I could use the pounds.” Harry pulls out two ace bandages and some gauze. He winds the gauze tightly around Niall’s left arm.

“What if I buy you a new flat? With good furniture?” Niall asks. His face is serious and Harry is disconcerted.

“What would the papers do with that huh?” Harry asks. “They’d call me The Royal Whore. Thanks, but no thanks. Besides, buying a flat for a broken window is a bit of an overreaction.”

“I didn’t say I’d sleep with you. I said I’d buy you a flat. One out of the line of parkour fire.” Niall offers again.

“Just no Niall. I’m moving back to Holmes Chapel as soon as possible. London hates me.” Harry sighs. He had such high hopes when he came here.

“I will not allow that to happen Harry. I have quite a bit of pull, and if I have to have you arrested by a crooked cop so I can visit you in prison I’ll do it. You interest me a great deal and I’m not letting that go.” Niall says.

Harry pulls back and hesitates before saying “I think you should go Mr. Horan. I can call a taxi for you.”

“Harry please. I’m sorry. For one of the most eligible bachelors in London I don’t really know how to do this. Let me start over?” Niall pleads and Harry sighs. “Can I take you out to dinner? Anywhere you want to go.”

“I don’t know. That thing about sending me to prison was out of line. Threats are not a good foundation for flirting.” Harry rubs at his temples.

“I know. I just panicked when you said you were moving. I don’t meet guys that often and you’re particularly cute. You make me nervous.” Niall blushes and rubs the back of his neck.

“I said to keep your arms still. You’ll start bleeding again.” Harry pulls Niall’s arm back down and re-wraps it. After he pins it in place he says “I’ll order take away, Chinese, no arguments, and we can watch a movie on Netflix.”

Niall beams and Harry smiles back softly. “Sounds great.” Niall says. He’s still blushing and it’s unbearably cute.

“That’s after we go to the hospital.” Harry tells him and starts to wrap gauze on the other arm.

“I’m not sure I need to go. My nurse is doing an incredible job.” Niall smiles.

“I’m a baker. Once we get to the hospital they’re probably going to yell at me for risking your life by doing this myself.” Harry frowns at the possibility.

“Not with me in the room they won’t.” Niall smiles. “I know this isn’t the best time to bring it up, but I happen to know that Heston Blumenthal is looking for a new baker at the Mandarin Oriental. I can talk to him if you want. He owes me one.”

“Niall Horan if you are joking I will throw you right back out that window. That is my dream job!” Harry yells, jumping up and down.

“It’s not head baker or anything Harry. And if you didn’t go to cooking school then you’ll probably get pushed around a lot. I’m not sure it’d be much of a favor.” Niall says sheepishly.

“It’d be amazing! Oh I can’t wait to rub Gloria’s nose in it. Show her what she’s missing.” Harry laughs.

“Well alright then. I’ll call him tonight when I get home.” Niall smiles and holds up his arm. “Of course I’ll need to be all patched up by then.”

Harry laughs again and finishes wrapping Niall’s second arm. “Okay you can put on a shirt now. I’ll go get you one of mine, because a member of the Royal Family walking into London Royal’s lobby covered in blood is going to raise some eyebrows.”

“Do you have anything button down?” Niall asks. “I hate them, but if any paps show up I can’t be wearing something from a thrift store. The Earl yells at me enough as is.”

“Sure. I have one for interviews that might fit you.” Harry runs to his room and closes the door. He flops down on the bed and squeals into the pillow. He continues until he feels lightheaded, but he isn’t sure if that’s because he finally has a date or because he has no air left in his lungs. He grabs his one good shirt and dashes back out to Niall who is on the phone.

“He’s friggin gorgeous Zayn. Gorgeous!” He pauses for a second, listening to whoever is on the other line. “I threatened to have him thrown in jail. Yes yes I know. I know Zayn. He said he was moving and I panicked.” He pauses again briefly before saying “Because how often do you literally fall out of the sky and meet the perfect bloke?”

“Is that Zayn Malik?” Harry asks. He couldn’t eavesdrop any more without laughing at Niall’s excitement. Niall nods and Harry says “Tell him I said hi. And that I hate him for taking Liam away to Paris.”

“Wait you know Zayn? Zayn is with Payno the Giant? How did I miss that?” Niall asks. “I do not only talk about myself. He was definitely not at that gallery opening. No he wasn’t. No he wasn’t. Zayn he was my parkour idol, I’d have noticed if he was there. What do you mean he looks different in a suit? I’m hanging up now.” Niall argues over the phone and Harry can picture the exact way that Zayn is rubbing his eyes. “Well right back at you, or apparently you can get Payno the giant to do it for you.”

Harry laughs at that. “You didn’t tell him I said hello. Here’s the shirt.”

“How much of that did you hear?” Niall asks, shrugging his bandaged arms into the shirt.

“More than you wanted me to I’m guessing.” Harry laughs. “I came in on the first gorgeous.”

Niall groans. “Eavesdropping is rude Harry.”

“So is jumping through a window. But I am sorry. You were just so excited.” Harry counters.

“Point well taken.” Niall sighs.

“There’s one more thing. You have glass in your shins. Now we can go to the hospital now, but walking is going to be painful after a few steps. I can take them out and bandage them, but you’ll need to take off your trousers.” Harry can’t even look at Niall when he says it. His cheeks are bright red and it almost stings.

Niall stands up, unbuckles his belt, and his trousers drop to the floor, pulling out several more shards of glass on their way. “Shit fuck!” Niall screams. Harry whirls around and screams too.

“Niall! What the hell? Did the shirt not teach you anything?” He asks, hurriedly pressing a damp cloth to the worst of the bleeds.

“Apparently not.” The blond sucks air through his teeth and winces. “You get me all confused. Dropping my trousers seemed like the best idea at the time.”

“Well it wasn’t. Now get your hormones in check and press that cloth to your other leg.” Harry’s voice is calm, but stern.

Niall does as he’s told and groans from the pain when he does. “Fucking stupid. I don’t know what I thought would happen. You said ‘trousers off’ and my brain short circuited. I blame it on your lips. I’m going to introduce a bill in parliament to have them declared a deadly weapon after this.”

“Now is not the time for a blow-job joke Niall. I could let you bleed out and get septicemia.” Harry says.

“Well stop doing that thing with them.” Niall grumps.

“What thing?” Harry asks, taking off the cloth to check how much glass is still in his leg. It’s only then he notices the large scar on Niall’s left knee.

“That thing where you make me want to kiss them. That thing where you bite them and just exude innocence that makes me want to wreck you.” Niall says. Harry looks at him and his eyes are basically staring into Harry’s soul. He leans forward and kisses Niall lightly. It’s quick, not much more than a peck really.

“There. Now you’ve felt them. Can you put your head back on straight and help with this?” Harry asks. He rolls his eyes, but inside he’s smiling.

“No chance. Now hurry up with this, because I want to kiss you for real and you’re between my legs and I’m pretty sure I’m going to die.” Niall whines.

“I’m trying to hurry. I still think I should have just taken you to the hospital.” Harry sighs loudly and resumes picking glass out of Niall’s legs. Luckily he apparently waves them so they don’t have any hair to muck up the wounds. Harry can’t help but wonder just how much is waxed. 

He must be staring because Niall says “Zayn dragged me to get this done. I don’t usually have legs this hairless. He said it would feel good but I could barely walk the next day. That woman did not get a tip for ripping or my arse hole.”

Harry feels palpitations coming on. He places one hand on each of Niall knees and looks him right in the eye. “Do you want to die? Because if I do this wrong cause you make all the blood rush out of my brain I will not go to jail.”

“Ah so you are interested.” Niall says as if he’s Sherlock Holmes and has just cracked a case. “I wondered how much more I’d have to say before you seemed to actually notice me instead of just dealing with me.”

“Niall I noticed you when you jumped off a roof into my window. I have done nothing but notice you for the last hour. Notice your eyes and your lips and your chest and your legs. Notice that erection that keeps pointing at me. Notice that you laugh after almost everything either of us says because you’re just a happy person, even with half a window pane in your body. Believe me I have noticed you.” Harry sighs after his rant. He probably said too much.

“Jesus!” Niall yells, just noticing his own erection. He drops the cloth he’s holding to cover it up. “Well thanks for letting me know about that.”

Harry starts laughing. He doesn’t stop. He has to drop what he’s doing and walk away, but he can barely catch his breath enough to get a few steps.

“What? What’s so funny? You can’t just talk about my cock and then start laughing Harry! I have feelings you know.” Niall sounds desperate.

“You’re-” Harry gasps. “You’re a right royal prick!”

Niall doesn”t respond for a few seconds. When he does, it’s thunderous. His laugh echoes off the walls and Harry is sure that between the two of them someone is going to file a noise complaint. They laugh for what feels like hours before Niall pulls back up his trousers.

“Alright you win. Let’s go to Royal London. Having a buffer there might help us behave.” Niall says.

“Hey I have behaved myself. You on the other hand...” Harry smiles and grabs his jacket. Maybe today isn’t so bad after all.

 

Things don’t go so well at the emergency room. Niall is separated from Harry immediately and a police officer takes him into a room to interrogate him.

“I already told you, I tried to take him to the hospital once I knew who he is. He asked me to do some superficial work before he got here so if the paps got wind they wouldn’t run away with speculation.” Harry sighs. He feels like he’s explained this a dozen times.

“Why would a baker from Holmes Chapel be preferable to top notch medical care? What does a baker even know about wound care?” The officer drones. He’s a gray haired old man who looks exasperated by Harry’s story.

“Well people get hurt in kitchens. A lot. I know how to treat burns and cuts. Also my best friend does parkour so I’m used to fixing him up too.” Harry sighs. He’s already told the officer this at least three times, but it doesn’t seem to get through.

Suddenly the door flies open and Niall is standing there fuming. A nurse is urging him back into a wheelchair, but he’s not having any of it. “Officer, if you could kindly fuck off that’d be great. If you have any more questions about what happened you can ask me about it. You can contact me at my uncle’s house, he’s the Earl of Ranfurly. I believe his number is unlisted, but I’m sure a fine copper like yourself can find the castle.”

“Yes sir Mr. Horan. I was just holding him until you decided whether or not you wanted to press charges.” The officer jumps up to his feet and bows. It’s hilarious to Harry, but he stifles the laugh that bubbles up in his throat.

“I’ve told at least three different people that I’m not. File your report and let that be the end of this.” is all Niall says before he takes Harry by the wrist and leaves. The nurse follows them with the wheelchair but, says nothing. Harry can tell she doesn’t really know how to handle the situation. He doesn’t care that much.

“Thank you, Niall. That was really awesome.” Harry says. He tries to hide his blush behind his long hair, but Niall isn’t looking at him anyway.

“He was just trying to gain favor with my family. I hate people like that.” Niall sighs. “I’m sorry. The doctor was much rougher than you were. My arm feels like it’s on fire. He even said there wasn’t anymore glass in it afterwards, he just wanted to be sure.”

“I’m sorry. Did they say anything about the other ones? I didn’t do too much damage did I?” Harry asks nervously.

“You did perfectly Harry. The doctor thought another one had gotten there first to steal his glory. He was shocked when I told him it was a baker with a really cute dimple. Now how about that Chinese?” Niall smiles and takes Harry’s hand. “Oh speaking of food, I called Blumenthal. He’s expecting you starting on Monday night. I’ll have the proper outfits sent to your flat. He’s very particular about appearance.”

“Niall, you don’t have to do that. I can buy my own uniforms.” Harry sighs. Every time money is mentioned he feels the huge divide between them. He’s not particularly sensitive about money, but this is way outside of his previous experience.

“The restaurant uniforms are hand embroidered silk. They cost two hundred pounds a piece and he requires that you have one for each day of the week, color coded. You can work it off with him, but that’ll take about several months unless you just don’t need any money from your first couple paychecks.” Niall sighs. “I however am offering you the chance to work it off in a much more fun way, by watching Netflix and bingeing on copious amounts of Chinese food. The choice is yours.”

“Jesus Christ. Alright you win. But I pay for the Chinese.” Harry sighs. 

“Too late. I already have a team on the way from Hakkasan with their full tasting menu. They’ll set it up while the handyman I called puts in your new window. It’ll take about ten minutes total, but they’re probably already on their way so we need to hurry.” Niall says. He tugs Harry’s wrist and they walk faster towards the parking garage. The nurse gives up and takes the wheelchair back to wherever it belongs.

“You’re unbelievable. Do you know everyone in this town?”Harry sighs.

“Just about. I make friends pretty easily, just not dates.” Niall laughs. 

When they reach Harry’s car he crawls in and smiles . They race back to Harry’s building, arriving just as a man with a tool belt pulls up. He follows them up to the top floor of Harry’s walk up and Harry sighs when he sees two Asian women standing outside his door. “I’m so sorry, have you been waiting long?” Harry asks as he fumbles with his keys. 

“No. Not really. But we’d wait for an hour if it was for Niall to have a date. He desperately needs one.” The shorter woman says, following Harry into the flat.

“Min Lee!” Niall squawks. “He doesn’t need to know that! You weren’t even supposed to know that’s what this is!”

“Niall, please. I doubt we’ve embarrassed you more than you have yourself. You’re covered in plasters.” The other woman says.

“Mary, that’s unnecessary.” Niall groans. “If you two don’t stop making fun of me, you can kiss that tip good bye. Why is everyone so mean to me?”

“Because you can take it.” The handyman says from the window. He’s quickly taking measurements, and then he’s back out the door.

“Shut up Louis! We both know what you can take! Or do I need to mention the famous footballer incident?” Niall shouts after him.

Harry is laughing the entire time. The two women clear off the table in his kitchen and bring it into his living room. They spread a beautiful cloth over the ugly table, and Harry blushes. Louis gets back upstairs surprisingly quickly, especially considering the window he’s hauling up seven flights of stairs. Niall is pouting on the couch and Harry sits next to him.

“This has been the weirdest day ever.” Harry sighs. “Also this is the most people that have ever been in my flat at once.”

“Five? Not much for socializing are you?” Niall asks. “Because I have to go out, a lot. Earlship is very social work.”

“I like going out, I just don’t know that many people. Zayn and Liam moved to Paris this morning, and my other best friend fired me.” Harry sighs. “And the only clothes I have are from department stores so I look casual pretty much all the time. Drove Zayn crazy.”

“”Well I know some people that would be glad to fix that little problem. Cynthia down at Armani would kill to fit you. You have perfect proportions for a suit. And don’t say no, because if tonight goes well I’m going to show you off all over town. Meeting Prince Charles in a pair of skinny jeans would raise a lot of eyebrows.” Niall says casually.

“You’re trying to kill me aren’t you? That’s what you’re doing. You missed me flying in my window, so you’re trying to give me a heart attack instead.” harry sighs.

“Actually mate, I think he’s trying to impress you. I say let him. He’s a damn fool when it comes to money.” Louis says from where he’s almost finished repairing the window.

“You shut up handyman.” Niall says. “It’s too hot in here for you too be running your mouth instead of putting in that window.”

“You sure that’s not just because you fancy him? Because I feel just fine.” Louis smiles. He finishes putting the window in place and tests it a few times to make sure it works properly. “This will do for now, but I’ll come back tomorrow and put in a real one to match the other ones. Just don’t jump through it and you’ll be fine.”

Louis picks up his things and leaves before Harry can even say thank you. When he looks again Mary and Min Lee have finished as well. The table looks amazing, one candle standing as strong as a monolith surrounded by a mouth watering sea of food. Niall thanks the girls with a kiss on each cheek and a whisper that Harry can’t hear. Both girls laugh and walk out without another word.

Niall pulls out a chair and Harry sits in it. “Now what do you want to watch?” Harry asks, picking up the remote and turning on his Netflix.

“You.” Niall says with a smile. “I mean, you pick.”

“No you don’t, but I will anyways.” Harry laughs. He sets The Avengers to play and focuses on Niall. Maybe this has been a good day. Maybe it can be perfect.


End file.
